Untitled: Vampires
by madisonrose666
Summary: Arthur, a young man on his own, commits suicide, which only pulls a string that unravels a series of events, revealing a world Arthur could never have dreamed of. Vampires galour!
1. Chapter 1

_This is my first story, and this is just a taste. It will evolve into a story relating to vampires, but for now, I just wanted to give you guys a little rid bit to see what you thought. Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy it. _

**Chapter I: Arthur**

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Arthur stared off into the night. There was not much to see, for the darkness shrouded much of the view. He didn't mind; Arthur liked the darkness, that gentle curtain that allowed an imagination to spring to life. He imagined that there were golden fields of captured sunlight, emerald trees that caught the moon's light and trapped it beneath their endless amounts of leaves. He thought of a tender valley at the base of a proud mountain, as if it protected everything that lay underneath its mass. He liked that idea the best, Arthur always did like the mountains. A soft, chilled breeze tussled his dirty curls, momentarily covering his pale, freckled face. His hazel eyes began to well with tears; sticky trails rolling down his marble face. He wiped them away, embarrassed as his façade of cool was broken, although no one was there to see. He didn't want to cry, not now, not in his last moments. For Arthur had come to this bridge for one reason, and that was to taste the ice below. Arthur took one last drag of his cigarette, tossing it into the waters where he would soon follow. Stepping onto the railings of the bridge, he felt the wind had grown stronger, as if to taunt him into the water. He felt the icy chill down his spine as it pressed against the back of his leather jacket, pressing the soft, cotton hood against the back of his head. And as nature beckoned him, Arthur felt his feet slowly leave the railing as he fell for swiftly into the cold arms of Death.


	2. Chapter II

As Arthur fell, he didn't really feel the chill of the wind hitting his face or the tugging at his clothes. He felt oddly at peace, wondering how long now before it would all be finished. He closed his eyes and took a last breathe before smacking into the crisp currents. This was his river Styx that would drift him off to the afterlife: or so he thought. Before he could regain his consciousness, someone had plucked him from the water and had pulled him unto shore. Arthur, so close to death, did not see who had rescued him. And as Arthur drifted into the land of the Dead, he felt a tender prick at his skin. Then, suddenly, a fiery essence surged through him, blocking off his air passages and causing him to convulse. "Is this death?", Arthur thought to himself. Surely, he had imagined it more soothing than this. This was as if the fires of Hell had come to meet him at the door, and they engulfed his being completely and threatened to burn him to a crisp. Perhaps Hell was real after all? Arthur contemplated how he had been wrong all these years, and how he now loathed this pain. However, the pain soon subsided, and Arthur opened his eyes. Everything was still painted black, but it had a new light to it, as if something underneath glowed, welcoming him to a new life. Arthur lay in his saviors arms and looked around, a new world unfurling before him. He felt stronger, more in control. Was this the other side? Had he succeeded in his mission? Lost in thought, he had not noticed that he was not alone. "You now hail from another shore and walk upon foreign sands that do not know Death, my sweet one." A soft voice spoke down to him, as he looked up to be greeted by a face of the purest marble white, framed with golden coils that engulfed him as she looked upon him. Her small hand touched his face, cold and soft. Her cold was not met with his own warmth, however. It was an icy cold that greeted its kin, and he became puzzled. "What shore do you speak of?", he whispered quizzically. She smiled tenderly and began to stroke his face with her thumb. "Oh, my precious one, you now walk upon a shore that no human will know. You now walk in the darkness of the night, away from the sun and its spoils. You will never know the sorrow of old age, and you will never know the grasp of Death upon you. You now walk amongst those Damned ones, those cursed with immortality. And for that, you must forgive me. In my selfishness, I have cursed you to walk the shores of the Undead". A single tear fell from her face; not a salt tear, but a ruby tear, a tear of blood. Arthur clung to her fur coat and began to shake with rage. This creature, so beautiful and wise, had taken from him the last thing in this world that was under his control. He met her eyes and saw that she was filled with sorrow, filled with sincerity. Those eyes soothed him, and he wiped the blood from her bleached cheek. The hand caressing Arthur's face moved to the one grasping hers, and she closed her eyes. "My Arthur, my dearest one. You are mine and I am your Rose". She opened her eyes, bending down to kiss his forehead. And as her chilled lips met his brow, he lost consciousness again.


End file.
